


time can break your heart, have you begging please

by daisylincs



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Jiaying's Death, Agents of SHIELD s07e10, Angst, Episode Tag: s07e10 Stolen, F/M, Flashbacks, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Jiaying's Death, Mourning, Past Lincoln Campbell/Skye | Daisy Johnson - Freeform, s07e10 Stolen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25690807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisylincs/pseuds/daisylincs
Summary: Daisy pressed her hands against her temples, trying to stop the flood of memories, but she had no more success than she had had with stopping the tears.So much loss.“Daisy,” she could hear Sousa saying, his eyes full of concern as he gripped her shoulders lightly, looking into her eyes, “Daisy!”But all she could see was Lincoln’s face, Jiaying’s body, Lincoln holding her as she sobbed over her mother’s body, Lincoln, Jiaying,Lincoln-** Daisy grieves. Set directly after 7x10. **
Relationships: Jiaying & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Skye | Daisy Johnson/Daniel Sousa
Comments: 19
Kudos: 138





	time can break your heart, have you begging please

**Author's Note:**

> I’m the kind of person who likes fluff and happy endings. I like laughing, and wanting to smash oblivious best friends’ faces together. I like groaning and grinning at all the shenanigans my favourite characters get up to in fake relationships.
> 
> And yet here I am, writing a fic that is basically _just_ angst, with a heavy dose of hurt/comfort on the side.
> 
> I could point fingers at several people for this; the first being the writers’ room of Marvel’s Agents of SHIELD, and their almost pathological desire to put Daisy through insane amounts of trauma. (Really, guys, doesn’t she deserve a _break,_ already?!?!) 
> 
> The second person is Sanctuaria right here on AO3, whose _incredible_ angsty fics seemed to have sparked something in my brain, and now I want to write a lot of angst, too. I don’t know whether I should be hugging her or sobbing at her, but the one thing I can say with absolute certainty is that her writing is _fantastic,_ and for better or for worse, she’s inspired me to dive deep into the land of angst and hurt/comfort. And, you know, canon compliance. Lol.
> 
> The third person is someone without whom this fic wouldn’t even have existed, because she’s really the genius behind it. MorganBartonRomanoff suggested that all the chaos of the latest episode would have brought back _all_ the memories for Daisy - particularly, memories of Lincoln, and her first stint in Afterlife. 
> 
> And, well, the angst-sparked part of my brain just grabbed onto that idea, and I told Bobbi, “I need to write this immediately!” Then she, wonderful soul that she is, immediately replied, “okay, do it!!” 
> 
> So for the first time, well, _ever,_ I wrote a canon compliant/post-episode fic. The episode tag is for 7x10 “Stolen,” so don’t read this unless you’ve seen the episode/don’t mind spoilers!!
> 
> The title of this fic is from the beautifully sad Tears In Heaven by Eric Clapton, and I don’t mind telling you that I cried while I was listening to it in the editing process. Now, I would say “enjoy this fic,” but it’s a lot of grief and angst, so there’s not much enjoying to be had, I’m afraid. Still - thank you very much for stopping by!

The first thing Daisy noticed, through the pounding in her ears and skull, was the deafening silence of the base, as though the very life had been sucked out of it.

It would be apt, thought a part of her. It would be apt, because she felt as though all the life had been sucked out of _her._

And it hadn’t even been her mother’s fault this time. No, her mother had been trying to _help_ her, to _protect_ her.

She almost wanted to laugh at the irony of it all.

A lifetime ago, she had wanted nothing more than to find her mother - and then she _had._

But her mother hadn’t been who she had expected.

“She hurt you,” Jiaying had said, her gaze saddening and filling with sympathy as she looked at Daisy.

And then, later, _“I_ hurt you.” 

Daisy could feel tears burning the backs of her eyes as her mother’s words echoed through her mind, the expression on her face playing hauntingly through her memory.

She felt like that lost little girl again, stubbornly refusing to cry as she lay shivering under threadbare covers in St Agnes’s orphanage, keeping herself hopeful with visions of a mother wrapping her arms around her, warm and loving.

She felt like Skye again, full of wonder and hope, finding her real mother after decades of searching.

And then losing her.

It felt like the universe’s cruel joke to make her go through it all again, to ride the whole rollercoaster of emotion all over again.

She closed her eyes, willing the tears not to spill over as she staggered blindly down the corridor, crouching down next to Jiaying’s body and pulling her head into her lap.

Her mother’s body was lighter than she had imagined - almost delicate; fragile. 

_Gone._

She had been clinging to the tiniest sliver of hope that maybe, maybe Jiaying could still be saved, if she might be able to use her gift -

But with her mother’s head cradled on her lap, her eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling, Daisy knew that it was too late.

She bent her head and sobbed - sobbed for the little girl, stubbornly clinging to her hopes and dreams of a mother; for the girl who had found and lost her mother, older but still far, far too young; for the second chance she had found and lost just as soon as it was in her grasp.

Somewhere, with some vague part of her that was still aware of what was going on around her, she registered a warm hand on her back, a presence she recognised with an instinctive sense of comfort as Sousa’s coming up behind her.

“Daisy,” he said softly, crouching down next to her, his voice concerned and full of quiet support.

It was too much. 

The voice, his voice - his _actions_ \- it was too much.

Memories flashed in front of her eyes, flashed and blurred with sickening speed. She was stretched out on the deck of the Iliad, the very life drained out of her, her mother’s body lying limp on the floor next to her.

And a voice, a warm and comforting voice just like this one now, his arms wrapping around her and helping her sit up as he wrapped her in an embrace - not speaking, just holding her.

“Lincoln,” she had whispered into his chest, burying her face in his shoulder, “I -” 

“Shhh,” he had said, pulling her a little tighter against him.

And she had let herself melt against him, sobbing and sobbing until she couldn’t anymore, knowing he would be there to hold her.

But he was gone too, now.

Daisy pressed her hands against her temples, trying to stop the flood of memories, but she had no more success than she had had with stopping the tears.

_So much loss._

“Daisy,” she could hear Sousa saying, his eyes full of concern as he gripped her shoulders lightly, looking into her eyes, “Daisy!” 

But all she could see was Lincoln’s face, Jiaying’s body, Lincoln holding her as she sobbed over her mother’s body, Lincoln, Jiaying, _Lincoln_ \- 

“Daisy,” Sousa was still saying, and she knew it was him, but she was seeing Lincoln’s face. Blue eyes, full of concern and caring as he helped her stand up after who-knows-how-long spent lying on the deck of the Iliad, helping her walk to the med-bay on legs still weak from having the life sucked out of her.

Sousa brought his hand up to rest against her cheek, and she knew he was only trying to help, but all she could see was _Lincoln_ doing the same for her years ago, brushing away the tears on her cheeks and promising with his eyes that somehow, it was still going to be okay.

She reached half-blindly for the hand on her cheek, pushing it away from her, away away _away._

She couldn’t deal with this now, too - she had just lost her mother for the second time, she couldn’t stand to think of how much else she had lost, too, it was just too _much_ \- 

She barely even noticed the flash of deep hurt that crossed Sousa’s face, but then he was sitting back, his apologies effectively jerking her from her thoughts.

She swallowed, hard, and reached for his hand again, half-blindly tangling his fingers with hers. “It’s… it’s not you,” she said, and she didn’t know how she managed to get the words out. “It’s… This has happened before.” 

Sousa was still, looking at her with wide eyes, and she was still seeing flashes of Lincoln’s face superimposed over his.

She squeezed his hand hard, trying desperately to anchor herself as tears tracked over her cheeks.

Sparkling blue eyes and a playful smile filled her memories, the sound of Lincoln’s laugh echoing through her mind.

“There was someone,” she said, opening her eyes to look at Sousa through the blur of tears, “with me when this happened the first time.” 

She saw the comprehension dawning in his gaze, the mix of shock and surprise and crippling guilt. “You cared about him,” he said, his eyes widening with realisation. “And me being here, it’s reminding you of -”

“Don’t,” she said quickly, squeezing his hand when he tried to get up. “Don’t go.”

He blinked at her, obviously surprised. “But if me being here is reminding you of him -” 

“I don’t want to be alone right now,” she interrupted, closing her eyes when a flood of dizziness washed over her.

He sat down slowly, his eyes full of conflicted emotion. 

“The person who comforted me after the first time my mother died,” Daisy said, keeping her eyes shut because it was easier, somehow, to get the words out that way. “He became… very special to me. He was the first person I loved, really.” 

She heard Sousa’s unsteady breathing beside her, but she took some comfort from the fact that he was still _there,_ despite all the realisations she had dropped on his head.

“He died,” she said, opening her eyes to look at him, and for the first time since he had arrived, seeing just his face looking back at her. She blinked, and a single tear traced a path down her cheek. “He died for me. Just like... just like Jiaying just did."

“Daisy, I’m -” 

“I know,” she said, closing her eyes again and resting her head on Sousa’s shoulder.

His shoulders were tensed under her cheek. “Daisy, I don’t know if I should be here -” 

“I want you to be,” she said, and she saw the memory of Lincoln one last time: smiling at her, half-sad and half-encouraging, as though he was telling her, _yes, you shouldn’t be alone in this._

And she saw Jiaying, too - not as she had been on that day, or as she was now, but as she had been earlier that morning, all soft edges and so much love for her daughter.

 _Sometimes, trying to do the right thing comes out all wrong._

She had been so full of compassion and caring - both of them had.

Enough that they would both die for her.

They had both wanted the best for her, in their own ways. 

And that was what she would remember.

She knew, with the kind of certainty that she couldn’t shake even if she had tried, that they would both want her to have someone with her as she worked through this.

Beside her, Sousa let out a long breath. “Okay,” he said softly. “What can I do?” 

“Just hold me,” Daisy said quietly.

And she knew he would. For as long as she needed.


End file.
